


Pinch an Inch

by SilverLynxx



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, chubby!Niki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLynxx/pseuds/SilverLynxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niki reasoned that since he’d already been half-stripped in front of Clay by James –probably the worst combination for such a thing Niki could imagine– he may as well keep his overalls as they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinch an Inch

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I forgot to upload this here!   
>  This was written for **Froakie-Yes** and **TheFlirtMeister** on Tumblr, generally just for being awesome  <3

The Spanish sun was positively unbearable, and with his red overalls still zipped defiantly up to his throat Niki had never felt more uncomfortable, even after foregoing his usual white undershirt and trousers.

All around him there were drivers, onlookers, even some mechanics going about shirtless, and Niki was certainly not a prudish or usually self-conscious man, especially in the face of such heat, but then again not everyone had a tall, tanned, blond and British Adonis seemingly forever within arm’s reach. Niki absolutely did _not_ believe he was in any way inferior to James Hunt, but as he glanced at the perfectly sculpted torso currently lounging against the wall of the cool Ferrari garage out the corner of his eye, Niki decided the heat really wasn’t that bad.

**-**

As the morning wore on the heat only grew more intense until even the shade provided little reprieve, and Niki could feel his hair sticking to his forehead while his overalls clung to his sweat-soaked back. He briefly removed his cap to wipe his forehead before tugging it back on, but the action was enough to catch the attention of James who seemed to have been dozing of all things in the corner.

“Christ, Niki, take those bloody things off. You’ll be well done by three,” the Brit chided from beneath his cap, and Niki scowled at him from where he was crouched by his car. “Do you not have better things to do than sleep in my garage?” the Austrian snapped irritably, wiping a clammy trickle of sweat from his cheek.

“Of course, I’m covertly stealing the schematics for your car.”

Niki can’t help the quick glance he shoots his work table where said diagrams are actually sitting, and feels ridiculous when James laughs, as the Brit hadn’t moved the entire three hours he’d been loitering. Niki stands with a scowl and throws an oily rag at the Brit and storms out to get a drink, his face no longer pink from just the temperature.

**-**

When Niki doesn’t return after fifteen minutes James goes in search of his ratty friend, and he finds him no more than ten feet from the garage. He’d apparently gone to get a drink –deduced by the bottle of water Niki was holding– but had gotten intercepted by a disturbingly shirtless Clay, and James was positive Regazzoni’s moustache had migrated its way to greener pastures onto the man’s chest. What really captured his attention however was Niki, though oddly it wasn’t his grumpy little face, bucked teeth, or passionate spiel of percentages that was responsible. Rather it was the way the man was fidgeting with the cold bottle between his hands and swaying ever so slightly on the spot, and the fact sweat was pouring down his neck and soaking dark patches into his overalls while his face seemed to grow steady pinker.

James was over in an instant and manhandling Niki’s overalls before the Austrian could do more than swear in surprise. Clay watched on bemused as James wrestled the zip down and yanked Niki’s arms free of the sleeves and promptly tied them at his waist to match his own, because like hell was he letting the stubborn bastard die of heat exhaustion.

“James! Fuck off!” Niki snapped, jerking back with his arms folded defensively. James paused with his eyebrows raised, then he grinned and reached forward and promptly pinched the soft skin now exposed to him.

“Niki, you’ve got a bit of tummy!” he laughed.

“You asshole!” Niki snarled and promptly slapped the man’s hand away. He turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving a pouting James and perplexed Regazzoni behind. And damn James Simon Wallis Hunt to hell, but that breeze did feel good.

**-**

Niki reasoned that since he’d already been half-stripped in front of Clay by James –probably the worst combination for such a thing Niki could imagine– he may as well keep his overalls as they were. He definitely no longer felt like he was being slow cooked in his uniform, and the stifled breeze felt wonderful against his damp skin.

The only downside however seemed to be that he was far more aware of James’ hands-y nature because said hands were frequently making contact with bare skin, namely his stomach. And he swore if James prodded or groped his stomach one more time he was going to run him over at the next given opportunity.

Niki had been talking to Ronnie when the Brit had made his initial appearance since redressing the Austrian, and had simply come up behind Niki and proceeded to jab his finger gently into the brunet’s side with a broad grin and amused sound. Niki had cussed the man out until he had run for cover, still beaming like the little shit he was.

Then Niki had been eating lunch with Jody and Emmo, and James had sidled up and without a word groped Niki’s stomach –while _cooing_ – and had fled before Niki could smack him. With the two drivers looking at him with matching puzzled expression, Niki could only pull his hat down a little lower and eat his lunch in mortified silence.

This continued until Niki, humiliated and furious, chose to hide in the Ferrari garage and grumpily read over his schematics. He ended up getting so caught up that he didn’t hear James sneak up behind him and promptly cup his stomach and squeeze.

“Hunt!” Niki snapped, partly in shock and partly fright, jolting to his feet and whacking the blond’s shoulder. “Will you fuck off and stop mocking me!” the Austrian demanded with an angry gesture. He liked to think he had an impressive tolerance to James’ teasing, but even he couldn’t take so much public baiting.

“Mocking you? What are you talking about, Ratty?” and there were those groping hands again. “Come here,” James grinned, and wrestled the frustrated brunet into an embrace, which wasn’t that unusual, but having James’ bare chest pressed against his equally bare back was a new and strangely thrilling sensation. But again the man’s hands had come to rest on his slight pudge.

“Making fun of my stomach. So I am not as fit as you are, that is no reason to make fun of me in front of the other pilots.”

James paused, because Niki sounded genuinely bothered by his actions, and he tightened his grip. “I wasn’t mocking you, Niki.”

The Austrian snorted disbelievingly. “It’s cute.”

“ _Was?_ ” Niki said blankly.

“It’s cute, and I can’t help myself,” James elaborates, giving Niki’s tummy another pinch and grinning. “Perfect, calculated, merciless Niki Lauda has a bit of chub, and I think it’s adorable,” he grinned, groping Niki’s soft waist more freely now that the shorter man was no longer resisting him. And Niki could only shake his head disbelievingly, putting his hand over his mouth to hide his reluctant, disbelieving smile.

James Hunt was an ass, but a fucking charming one all the same.


End file.
